Her White Knight
by TheNovelArtist
Summary: After being forced into an arranged marriage, the last thing Marinette expects is to for her first love to steal her away. Or for her first love to have changed so much in the first place.


_A/N: A Secret Santa gift for SaijSpellheart on tumblr and AO3 :D_

* * *

Marinette knew this marriage was strictly political. She knew a princess' job was to marry for the protection or political gain for their kingdom.

Or, in the case of Princess Chloe Bourgeois, her job was trying to pull the wool over her fiancé's eyes.

In these marriages, it did not matter if the soon-to-be husband would be twice her age, no matter how desperately uncomfortable that made said princess. It had made Chloe uncomfortable, just as it made Marinette uncomfortable. However, unlike Chloe who had the power to manipulate whoever she chose, Marinette didn't have much of a choice than to suck it up and bear it.

After traveling for days on end, she and her entourage had finally arrived at the castle, her new home. A pit of dread formed in her gut. However, she didn't have a choice but to smile and march forward to the castle entrance, where several servants were waiting for her but not the man she had been sent to marry.

"Princess Chloe," one of the men said, stepping forward before bowing before her. "We are so pleased you have arrived safely. Allow us to show you about the castle."

She agreed, following the man as he led her around the place. It was beautiful, to be sure, but it didn't make the uneasiness in her gut go away.

Eventually, the tour did come to an end in a meeting room upstairs, where her future husband happened to be. The butler introduced her as she walked into the room, then bowed and left her alone and unchaperoned with the man in front of her.

Her heart was racing so fast with nerves, and it didn't help that the man silently stared her down with cold eyes and a stony expression.

"I remember your father commenting how chatty you were," he eventually said.

_Had King Andre said as much about Chloe? _Marinette took a deep breath, hoping to settle some of the panic rising up in her. "Only with people I know well."

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Marinette thought that he knew. How, she wasn't sure. He'd never seen Chloe before now, so he wouldn't know what she looked like. But she felt stripped bare by that cold, calculating gaze of his. And she couldn't help but feel that if he hadn't figured her out already, he would soon enough.

_Crash!_

Marinette whipped around at the sound of the shattered window, her heart pounding in fright. But in the next moment, someone grabbed her hand, yanking her back against them and putting a knife to her throat. She gasped at the sudden touch of a blade along her neck, panic making the world already start to disappear.

"Silence or I'll kill her."

The roar in her ears and beating in her chest only increased at the growly voice by her ear.

"Who are you?" King Gabriel asked, seemingly unfazed by the fact a man was about to kill her right before his eyes.

The man scoffed, squeezing her tighter to the point she couldn't hold back a scared squeak. "Of course you don't recognize me," he snarled. "I can't say I'm surprised. Let's just say this: Lady Emilie, second daughter of a duke. Do you remember her?"

King Gabriel's eyes narrowed.

"No words to say about the woman whose life you ruined?"

Again, no response.

"Pathetic," he spat in disgust. "So, just like you ruined hers and destroyed mine before you even knew of my existence, I'm here to finally repay the favor."

The king didn't even flinch. "And just how does a pathetic, no name bastard plan to do that?"

A growl rose up in the man's throat as he pressed the knife closer to Marinette's neck. "Considering you made me a bastard, you know part of my name. But I won't grace you with my Christian one. However, you'll want a name to curse when I make your life a living hell. So, from this day forth, you may curse the day Chat Blanc ever came into your life."

In an instant, the man covered her face with a handkerchief, making it very hard to breathe. With every breath, she inhaled something that was both sweet and sour. A vile mix that made her gut churn.

"Bit by bit, I will destroy all the things you find valuable," her captor spat, "since I doubt you have the ability to regard anything as _precious._"

Her vision was beginning to blur, and her head was beginning to get light.

"And I'll start with her."

She tried her best to fight it, but it was no use, she couldn't get away. Her gut was sinking faster than a stone in water. Was she going to die?

"And you think you'll get away with this in my castle?" King Gabriel challenged.

The last thing Marinette heard before the world turned black was the man behind her chuckling, a dark, terrifying sound. "Watch me."

* * *

Back at his hideaway, Adrien pulled the unconscious girl off the saddle, cradling her carefully in his arms as he marched towards his hideaway house. Marinette. The one love of his life. He'd been on his way to deliver his warning to King Gabriel when he saw her step out of the carriage.

He'd had to do a double take because, at first, he knew that couldn't have been her. She wasn't a princess. Yet, the resemblance was uncanny. So, he stalked her as she was shown around the castle. And the more he saw, the more convinced he was that this was his precious Marinette. How she had ended up in that position, he had no clue, but he was bound and determined to get her out of it.

So as much as he hated to scare her as he had, holding a knife to her throat and kidnapping her, he hadn't had much of a choice.

The small house on the corner of his late mother's family's property only had a single room and a single bed. He laid the still unconscious Marinette on it before starting up a fire in the fire place. Fall was in full swing, and the nights were growing colder. Adrien was fine with it being a little chilly, but he wanted Marinette to be comfortable. She never did like the cold.

Once that was complete, he pulled some blankets over her. Once that was settled, he left to put his horse away properly. Hopefully, he'd return to her side before she woke up. He'd already scared her once; he didn't want her to awake only to panic without him there to explain everything.

* * *

When Marinette awoke, she felt sick to her stomach. She closed her eyes tightly, fighting against the swirling in her stomach. Her head was spinning, too, making her want to do nothing but fall back asleep.

But… hadn't something happened? She wasn't in her own bed at her own home. Something had smelled funny…

She tried to force herself to open her eyes, only for them to slam shut when the light was too much.

"Shh."

Long, lazy circles were being drawn on her back soothing her, coaxing her back into sleep.

"You don't have to force yourself up," a calm, sweet voice said. "Rest."

And she nearly did just that. Until her mind started putting things together. Like the fact she didn't recognize the voice. Or that she realized that she'd been traveling to meet the man that would become her husband.

Or that she'd been kidnapped.

Groggily, she opened her eyes, blinking them several times in order to focus them. She caught sight of a person sitting beside her on the bed, rubbing her back and shoulders.

"You're awake?" the gentle voice asked. "Don't force yourself. Sleep if you want."

She looked up at the man's face, spying a mess of blonde hair and a sweet smile paired with a gentle gaze. He looked so familiar. So… familiar…

"Adrien?" Her voice was dry and raspy, but it was enough for that smile to brighten even further.

"You know, when we parted and you told me that I was welcome to abscond with you when I was able to, this was not how I pictured it going."

Her mind processed his words, taking a moment to fully register in her head. She scoffed, though she couldn't resist smiling. "I didn't mean it literally."

He chuckled, reaching for a pitcher that was on the bedside table. He poured her a cup while she struggled to sit up. He helped her the rest of the way before offering her the cup. "Sorry, I didn't mean to drug you. I know that it can leave your throat dry."

She took the cup and drank, only getting half of it down before her stomach protested her drinking any more. She set it down on the table by the bed.

"But you couldn't imagine my surprise when the 'princess' showed up," he continued. "And all I saw… was the woman I had sworn I would marry walking up to be the king's bride. So, if you wouldn't mind, I'm desperate to hear an explanation."

The soft look in his eyes had shifted, a blazing fire in them now. That smile was gone, along with any gentleness in his expression. But it didn't worry her. After having grown up with this man, after having fallen in love with him, she knew that any anger inside him was not aimed at her. She also knew how to calm him down.

Actually, as far as she knew, she might be the only one who's ever succeeded in calming him down. "You remember that we parted because I was one of the maids sent with your aunt when she happened to marry into the royal family of the closest kingdom."

He nodded. "I never understood why _you_ had to go," he said with a snarl.

"I never did, either, but I couldn't exactly protest."

"You should have let me abscond with you then."

"Adrien," she cooed, taking his jaw in her hands. Instantly, she felt him melt into her touch. "You knew why I couldn't let you do that. You were still in training to become a royal knight, and you did not need any distraction of me being your wife at that time."

"I could have made it work."

"Just because you _could_ have didn't mean you _should_ have."

"But then you wouldn't have left!" he protested. "And you could have stayed put where I could have kept an eye on you, and you wouldn't—"

"Adrien," she gently interrupted, cutting off his impassioned rant. She rubbed his cheeks with her thumbs, hoping to calm him down some more. Slowly, he relaxed back into her hands. "Be reasonable."

"I am," he muttered.

"No, you're not, and you know it."

His gaze fell away as he let loose a frustrated growl.

She chuckled. "It wasn't ideal, but us parting the way we did was better than me agreeing to your impulsive marriage proposal."

"How is three years of torture better than —"

"Because it would have put more stress on both of us, and you know it."

"But—"

"_Adrien_."

He pouted.

Marinette grinned, rubbing her thumbs in soothing circles on his cheeks again. "Always so impulsive," she affectionately murmured.

He grunted but didn't protest.

With a sigh, she continued her story. "As for why I ended up pretending to be a princess, well… it certainly wasn't my idea."

"Never would have guessed," he sarcastically spat.

"I had a man I wanted to marry already," she said, leaning her face closer to his. "I didn't want to marry a king twice my age. But on that same note, neither did Princess Chloe. When her father told her that she was to marry King Gabriel, she refused. Then she was the one who came up with the idea to send someone as a replacement for her."

"And that someone was you?"

Marinette cringed. "Princess Chloe hated me from the moment I came to the castle. She was probably thrilled to put this task on me."

Adrien growled, sliding even closer to her so he could pull her into his arms.

The suddenness of his actions shocked her, but soon enough, she was melting into his embrace. And after a moment of just sitting there in his arms, she started crying, clinging to his shirt as though her life depended on it. When was the last time she'd held him? Three years? She'd been fifteen when she'd been forced to separate from him. Now, she was a fully-grown woman.

No matter how it was put, she hadn't held him for far too long, especially considering that she'd loved him more than anything. And still did.

He clung to her, too. His own body wracking as he teared up, too. "I've missed you," he whispered.

"I've missed you, too," she returned tearfully. She hadn't realized just how much until now when she was finally back in his arms.

And he didn't seem too keen on letting her go.

That was fine by her.

After a little while of just holding him and being held, she couldn't help but ask the question that had been nagging her. "Adrien."

"Hmm?"

"You… you basically kidnapped me from the castle."

"Yes."

"Why? I mean… I understand _why_ you pulled me away but… couldn't you have taken me another way? You're a member of the royal knights, aren't you?"

Adrien tensed in her arms, slowly pulling away.

Which only caused her to worry. "Adrien?"

"I'm not part of the royal knights any longer."

Marinette's eyes widened. "What? What do you mean?"

Adrien sighed but didn't speak.

Marinette's brow furrowed in worry.

"A lot of things happened when you left," he eventually answered. "Including me growing tired of my status as a bastard child." When he looked to her again, his gaze was icy cold and rock hard. There was no warmth in them at all. "It never leaves you, you know. It's like bearing the devil's mark. Once people find out, they mark you as the lowest of the low."

Her heart broke at his words, ones woven with anger and bitterness.

"Mother always told me to ignore them. And so did you. You… you were the only person that actually treated me like a normal human. Not like a disgrace."

"I've said it once," she said, reaching out to cradle his cheek again, and he happily leaned into her touch, "And I'll say it again: the fact that you were born out of wedlock is not your fault. It's not fair for you to be saddled with that derogatory title."

His eyes softened for a moment. "I wanted to believe you when you said that you weren't the only one who believed that, but… that was my mistake."

Something painful clenched in her gut. "Adrien—"

"I got more injuries from my teachers and squad-mates than in training or in combat."

It felt like she'd just been hit in the chest because the air in her lungs disappeared in an instant. "Oh, Adrien."

"And then my father—no, the man who sired me…"

Marinette blinked. "Your father—"

"He doesn't deserve the term!" he snapped.

"Sorry, sorry," she appeased. "I just… I didn't know that you learned who he was. Your mom never told you, even though it was clear she knew."

"He wanted her as his lover, then abandoned her when she was pregnant with me." He growled. "But what did he expect to happen?" he shouted angrily. "Sleep with a healthy woman long enough and of _course_ she'll bear a child! He's not innocent here. How _dare_ he leave my mother to fend for herself!"

Marinette knew there was no breaking into his ranting. She could only hold his cheeks in her hands, drawing him forward enough to rest her forehead on his. She felt some of the tension leave his body.

"He could have married her," he said, voice now weak. "_Should_ have married her. Why did he leave us?"

His broken words wrecked Marinette's heart. "I don't know," she said. "Only he knows that."

Slowly, in that moment of silence, the words he'd spat at the king before he'd kidnapped her came back to mind. "Adrien. Your father… is he—?"

"The king?" he finished. "Yes. And no one I worked for or trained with insulted me more than him."

"So, when you said you were going to strip him of everything…?"

His eyes locked on her. "It's not just because he was cruel to me," he clarified. "You know the state of the kingdom. It hasn't changed since you left."

She frowned. Yes, she did know the state of the kingdom. It was in a rough place for the common folk.

"His harassment was just the final straw," Adrien finished. He then pulled away and his eyes grew hard. "And you won't stop me, Marinette. I've made up my mind on this. I _will_ see it through to completion."

As she looked into those green eyes of his, she saw the fire blazing within them. She wasn't sure how much she should push, or even if she could. "I'm just… hesitant."

"You're not the one making this decision, so whether your hesitant or not doesn't matter."

"For your safety."

He scoffed, his smile bitter. "I'm a knight. My safety was never guaranteed."

"It's worse now."

She was glad that bitter smirk fell away. "It doesn't matter. What has to be done has to be done."

She bit her lip, unsure just what she could say.

He glared at her. "Marinette, I know that look in your eyes." He then took her chin, in his hands so ensure she couldn't turn her gaze away from his. "There is nothing you can say that will convince me otherwise."

"So I'm expected to just roll over as you impulsively—"

"It's not impulsive," he curtly interrupted. "Not this time. I've thought this out. I've planned it. I'm just doing what has to be done. For the sake of this kingdom, and that is overthrowing the current king."

She sighed as she listened to his impassioned rant, unsure of what to say. "And you'll take over for him, I assume."

There was a flash of something in Adrien's eyes, something that left them duller than before, like he'd cut off his soul from her. And that's when she realized, that flash had been hurt. "Don't you dare think I'm petty enough to try to take his throne for selfish reasons."

"Oh, no, no," she quickly assured, realizing just how her words had been misinterpreted. "I'm not. Not for a second. That's not like you."

"The fact I'm related to him by blood is of no matter to me," he continued. "I'm doing this for the betterment of the kingdom, not because I care for the throne."

"I know," she promised, taking hold of his hands and squeezing them tightly. "I know you. I know that you're not like that. I'm just worried for you and all the weight you're shouldering."

That fiercely cold gaze of his warmed, as though an ice had thawed out. Seems she navigated the hurt she'd inadvertently given him. "Trust me, Marinette. I have to do this. For you and me and everyone else in the kingdom."

"Okay," she relented. "Okay."

* * *

Three days, she'd been living with Adrien in this small little house. She recognized it as the house on the corner of his mother's parents' property. After all, he did abscond with her here once before and almost convince her to stay with him.

He'd also kissed her more heavily that night than he ever had before.

Blushing hard, she shook her head to try to rid herself of the memory. Thankfully, he wasn't here to catch her embarrassment. He was out again at the moment. There was a pattern during the day where he left for hours at a time, always returning before dinner but never telling her what he was up to, claiming it was for her safety. He admitted to talking to friends—that she assumed meant comrades or people he was working with, at least; she severely doubted he was doing all this alone—or writing letters, but that was all he divulged.

Everything about the two of them seemed new and fresh, like she was navigating a whole different relationship as opposed to the one they were in three years ago.

But then again, they weren't the people they were three years ago.

That didn't mean she loved him less. Every day they spent together reminded her more and more of just why she had fallen in love with him in the first place. Now, she just loved him differently from the way she did back then. Three days was enough to prove that he was still Adrien at his core, but unfortunately, as she'd learned, he was shattered. He'd always had a wild, reckless, impulsive edge to him. It was one of the things she'd loved about him. She'd nick-named him Chat Noir because of it, because he was like a cat: curious and always getting into trouble. He'd embraced the name, but only after she agreed to be his Lucky Ladybug.

But now… Chat Blanc…

She learned he called himself that because he was ready to wipe clean the slate of this kingdom and start over. He wanted nothing more than to overthrow the corrupt king and all the black-hearted soldiers who had done nothing but harass and abuse him. Abuse that had turned him from the boy she'd once known to a man who was crafty and calculating and constantly skeptical.

She couldn't help but wonder if she could have stopped his transformation, but she couldn't turn back time, meaning all she could do was to be here for him. And it worked, too. She noticed that no matter what feral state he marched into the house in, a touch from her could take the edge off the wild look in his eye.

The door opened, and Marinette spun around to face him. His posture was rigid, his shoulders set square, and his mouth tugged into a frown, just as he usually was when he returned from being out all day. So, just as she usually did, she shot him a smile. "Welcome home," she whispered as she reached out to embrace him.

Instantly, he melted into her touch, practically collapsing against her before he had the good sense to embrace her back. "I love you," he mumbled into her shoulder.

"And I love you," she quietly returned.

This only caused him to grab on to her tighter, like she was his lifeline and he was a dying man clinging to it. It only made him worry for him more.

"Are you doing okay?" she asked, stroking his hair soothingly.

"I have you with me," he said. "That's all that matters."

She felt her cheeks warm at his admission.

"One day, I'll make you a queen," he said. "And I'll give you the world."

"I don't need the world," she countered. "I just want you."

"But I want to give you _everything,"_ he said, his body tensing as he stressed his point. "You deserve it."

She scoffed. "I don't deserve—"

"Yes, you do," he quickly interrupted. "You very much do."

She sighed. "Adrien, just be careful in the process. I much prefer to have you in one piece than you tearing yourself to pieces in order to give me something. _You_ are the treasure. Not anything else."

His arms tightened around her, but she barely noticed, not when his lips found the spot where her neck met her shoulders. She gasped in surprise as he laid a long, lingering kiss there. "And that's why I'll give you everything," he whispered against her skin, making her shiver. He then pulled away just so that he could see her face, but his embrace never loosened. "Because no one else thinks of me as highly as you do. So mark my words, I _will_ make you a queen. All you have to do is marry me."

Her heart was pounding at his previous action, but her mind was still lucid enough to process his words. This again. Ever since she came, he'd been begging for her to marry him. She'd always paused him with a "Are you sure this is good timing, Adrien?", uncertain about a lot of things. They'd only just reunited and he had so much to deal with at the moment, but she could see it wasn't stopping him from repeatedly asking for her hand. "Why are you so insistent?"

His eyes narrowed, the green orbs growing cold. "Why shouldn't I be?"

"Because you have a lot on your plate right now."

He shrugged. "Marry now, marry later; what difference does it make? I severely doubt there will be a time where I think I don't want to marry you, so why not _now_?"

She sighed. "You've always been persistent."

"And what's wrong with that?" he challenged. "I _love_ you, Marinette. I always have and always will. I want to be able to come home to you as my _wife._ Is that too much to ask?"

After a moment of thought, she shook her head. It came as no surprise to her why he was so persistent on the marriage issue: he was born out of wedlock, after all. She remembered that first night that he'd kissed her so heavily back when they were young that she was worried about how much he wanted of her, particularly since she felt terrified to give him everything. But he had assured her that he wouldn't. Out of respect for her, of course, but he also said he would never take the risk of making a child out of wedlock. "I'll never saddle my own children with the derogatory title I'm damned to carry."

"Why do you want me so badly?" she asked. "That you're so impatient to wait."

His eyes darkened, a look he'd only had once before as far as she remembered. Her gut spun itself into knots instantly at the raw desire swimming in them. "I want you as my wife," he said. "That does not change. You're my greatest treasure, and I want to protect and provide for you. I want to give you the world. But…" He leaned forward so as to press a kiss to her forehead. She felt his nose rest on the crown of her head, not pulling away. "I am a man who currently happens to be living with a very beautiful woman who I love and adore with every ounce of my being. And my self-control is weaning."

Blood positively _rushed_ to her face. "Uhh…" Her voice had gotten very high pitched. "You… You want… me…" She couldn't help it. Instantly, she buried her face in his neck.

He chuckled. "I'll always respect your boundaries," he purred, gently stroking her hair. "Trust me that much, but I want… want to know I'm allowed to touch you and hold you and kiss you freely and unrestrained. And eventually, when you're ready, claim you as _mine._"

His words shot jitters through her. And not bad ones, either. "Adrien…"

"But, in the end—" He forced her out of her hiding spot against his chest. "—I do want you as my wife, and all that entails. Not just the physical intimacy of it." Again, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, then began a trail down her temple to her cheek. "So please, Marinette, be my wife."

Her heart was racing wildly and her stomach was in knots she wasn't sure would ever come untangled. He continued his ministrations, gently peppering her face with kisses.

And then when he pulled away to look her in the eye, her heart nearly shattered at his earnest expression. His eyes wide and raw, allowing her to see his soul within, past all the anger and pain he bore. One of a little boy who just wanted affection. Wanted someone to care for him. And she…

She had always wanted to be that person for him.

"Okay."

His eyes lit up in excitement. "Is that a yes?"

She smiled, her heart thumping in her chest and butterflies flapping excitedly around in her stomach. "Yes."

Instantly, he smashed his lips against hers, kissing them over and over and over again. Time seemed to stop as reality faded away, leaving only him and her together. Her knees were two steps from giving out on her as he stole her breath straight out of her chest time and time again.

How odd that when she was fifteen, this level of physical affection had her on edge, but now, it excited her to her very core.

Before she lost herself completely in the haze of bliss, brought on by his unending barrage of kisses to her lips and cheeks and neck, an assault that wouldn't end even after he shoved her up against the nearest wall and began running his hands up and down her sides, she couldn't help but think that the joy on his face that appeared the moment she'd said yes reminded her of the dorky kid she'd once known. The one she'd fallen in love with in the first place. He actually looked… happy.

_I want to see you happy again,_ she thought as their session continued, Adrien flat out picking her up and carrying her to the bed, just like that time three years ago, only to continue pressing marks on the skin of her neck and collarbone. _I want to see you as that curious Chat Noir and his bright, boisterous smile again. And if that means standing by Chat Blanc's side for now and weathering through all the pain and suffering and anger, fighting it off with you, then I'll gladly do it. Because more than anything,_

_I love you._


End file.
